Plane Ride to Heaven

They both stood up—their arms around each other's waist—and went to the window; she rested her head on his shoulder and let out a heavy sigh, as they watched the blizzard quickly covering everything—the street below, the rooftops of the neighboring apartment complexes, the parked cars.

In a few minutes, everything was perfectly white—not a soul on the streets, not a sound breaking the magnificent silence.

"Well," he chuckled, "it appears I won't be going anywhere tonight."

"Were you planning on leaving tonight?" She erupted, taken completely aback.

"Yeah," he groaned and lowered his gaze. "To be honest...I don't know what I was expecting, when I asked you to meet me, I..."

"So, you were just gonna leave?"

"I honestly thought we'd...just go out for a coffee, some pleasant conversation, and...and I'd be on my way. To...I don't know. Poland, maybe. I hear they're decent drinkers."

"I guess..." She focused her glance at the window and the heavy snowfall. "You did mention all that in your email. I just...thought..."

"It's all right." He kissed her on the forehead. "I've also thought about...the possibility of sticking around, finding a place of my own. But, don't tell me you haven't also thought that it'll end...that it'll be just like before."

"I...have, yes," she admitted, confronted by her own darkest thoughts. "However...I don't know. Did you really think about staying, or, are you just saying it?"

"I thought about it," he nodded. "But, not here. Not with you. It was way too soon; we couldn't beat the overwhelming odds. However..."

"Maybe, we can start over," she said, clearing her throat trying to get rid of her excitement.

"Perhaps, I should go check if that bar still needs someone to man the counter."

"Were you offered a job?"

"Yeah," he chuckled. "Before I left. Apparently, they need someone that can pour a beer and handle the rowdy drunks; and I can do both."

"Well, that sounds..."

"It might have to wait till tomorrow, though," he smiled. "I wouldn't mind getting trapped in a bar, but..."

"I think it'd be better, if you waited here till the storm settles down." She wrapped both arms around his neck and pressed her lips hard on his, thrusting her tongue in his mouth.

When he pinned her against the wall—and she felt his erection rubbing against her pussy—her dark thoughts were instantly eviscerated. As he bit her lower lip and lifted her up in the air by the ass, it really did feel as a fresh beginning.

She kissed him even more passionately, thrusting her tongue down his throat and holding on to him tightly—she did not wish to let go, did not wish for the moment to end.

He carried her back to bed and she stood on all fours, arching her lower back, as she suggestively looked at him, with a wide grin and slowly licking her lips.

She wiggled her ass, as he put a new condom on; she bit her lips down, when he guided his prick back inside her already soaked pussy.

With a firm grip on her waist, he thrust hard, her position allowing for deeper penetration—she squirmed and panted, as he intensified his pace, slamming her rough, his balls noisily slapping against her pussy.

She reached down and rubbed her clit, while her whole body rocked back and forth in accordance to his plowing. Her body already weak and vulnerable from before, she quickly gave in to the brilliant sensations and sparks flew in front of her eyes, as she convulsed, her pussy clenching tight around his shaft, and her legs flapped wildly.

He tightened his grip around her waist—holding her steady despite the spasms that rocked her body—and continued to pound her slow and hard.

Her orgasm ensued, more and more intense waves of unprecedented pleasure kept rushing through her spine and into her mind; she rested her head on the mattress, biting the sheets, panting heavily, while he still pounded her.

A loud cry exited her mouth, when he pulled her hair and jerked her head off the mattress; twisting her hair around his hand, he once again increased his pace. Her mouth wide open, her tongue sticking out, the whole room had turned blurry and another round of colorful fireworks erupted in her brain, rendering her perfectly numb.

His heavy groan brought her back to reality, as he thrust one last time, going as deep as biologically possible and his cockhead expanded deep inside of her. He collapsed on top of her, his flaccid prick slipping out of her still-convulsing and dripping pussy, and kissed the back of her neck, causing shivers to cross her body once more.

Almost in an instant, they both fell asleep.

* * * *

"It's stopped snowing," she remarked over her cup of steaming coffee, her head feeling heavy and her body light.

"Yeah," he nodded, forcing himself to stick to coffee, as he dragged long from his cigarette. "Maybe, I should head down to the bar; see for that job."

"You think it'll be open? What with the snow and—" her face lit up "—being so close to Christmas, and..."

"Of course, it'll be open," he laughed warmheartedly. "I mean, it's those places that need to stay open during bad weather and holidays—where else would all the lonely people go, if it weren't for good ol' dives?

"I've spent plenty a-Christmases draining bourbon bottles in watering holes, along with other lonely people. Four glasses in, and you stop being lonely."

"That's...so sad."

"Yet, here we are, both stranded in a foreign land on Christmas," he shrugged.

"Yeah," she lowered her melancholy eyes.

"Sorry," he said, his voice quickly turning mellow. "Didn't mean to..."

"It's okay," she tried to smile. "I guess...for a short while there, I managed to forget everything."

"You're welcome."

They both chuckled; then, they remained silent.

"All right," she cleared her throat, "let's head to the bar together."

"What?" He raised his eyebrow.

"Let's go have a drink, to celebrate! And, if I'm there with you, I'll feel a lot better than just letting you go on your own."

"Okay," he ran his fingers through his hair. "It's a nice change of pace, isn't it?"

"Let's hope we can keep it that way," she winked and got up.

"I know I'm gonna try harder this time around."

"Hope so," she hurried back to him for a quick kiss, before she rushed to the bedroom to change.

He stood by the window, watching the calm afternoon and the hidden under the snow street.

They walked out on the street holding each other tight—a sudden cool breeze blew and felt like the wind of change for which both had desperately longed.

"Well, I'll be damned!" The bartender greeted Peter heartily. "I thought you were gone for good!"

"I thought so, too," Peter shrugged, and helped Penelope settle on the stool. "But, things change, man."

They ordered two beers and talked casually, ignoring the noise of the crowded bar—the first night of the rest of their lives went by smoothly, as they stayed in the bar till last call, with Peter landing the job and Penelope fighting hard to repress her joy in fear of jinxing the whole damn thing.

"To a brighter future," Peter raised his glass.

"Amen," Penelope grinned and clinked her glass on his.